


Non-entity

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Crack, M/M, Robots, build your own boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:06:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only reason Mike throws himself off the roof of their apartment building is to get Brad’s attention</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-entity

The only reason Mike throws himself off the roof of their apartment building is to get Brad’s attention. Just like all the other times he’s acted out. This is only because Brad got promoted at work and he has to spend more time in the office and, subsequently, less time at home with Mike. And for someone who can’t show any emotions he manages to replicate jealously pretty damn well.

Brad doesn’t realise what has happened until he gets home from work and the apartment is empty. He goes straight to the window and peers down and, sure enough, Mike is on the ground below the fire escape.

Brad climbs down the stairs carefully, careful not to slip on the wet metal. When he gets to the ground he takes in the extent of the damage with a sigh. Mike’s legs have broken apart at the knee and his entire left arm as come off at the shoulder and is now lying in a puddle. It’ll take hours to repair him and, should Brad have issues, he won’t be able to claim on their insurance seeing as by now Mike will be water damaged.

Carefully, Brad scoops Mike up, grabbing his arm from the puddle. He carries him back up the fire escape to their apartment and takes him to the workshop. Before Mike this had been Brad’s study which was only ever really used for watching porn. Now it was a hospital room.

He makes sure to dry out Mike’s arm before he even tries to re-attach it. The wires are severed completely, and it takes hours to find the right scraps to repair them. Even when he’s put back together and functioning again Brad can’t move his left index finger, but he guesses that’ll be Mike’s lesson learned.

He leaves him offline long enough to have a beer and a cigarette and to take a deep, deep breath. Things weren’t always this way, and they sure as hell won’t continue on this way if Brad has anything to do with it.

When he turns Mike back on later he doesn’t say anything, just watches him sit up on the work bench and test out his joints.

“Well done,” Mike says, “you deserve a medal.”

“Fuck you.” Brad snaps, leaning against the wall. “You’re so inconsiderate I can’t even believe it.”

“If you’re working all day, Brad, I’m bound to need to entertain myself.”

“Stop punishing me for being promoted. We need the money that my job brings home.”

Mike is staring at his index finger, obviously trying to make it function. “I’m not punishing you for anything, Brad. It’s understandable that you want to spend more time with humans than with me. It’s natural.”

Brad grits his teeth and makes a fist. “I don’t want to spend more time with them. It’s a contract that I signed. Would you just fucking stop it?”

“My finger doesn’t move.”

“No,” Brad says, pushing himself away from the wall and walking away, “you’re broken.”

***

It starts raining that night and it continues all day. Brad drives to and from work barely being able to see beyond the windscreen and, unsurprisingly, when he gets home Mike isn’t there.

He hesitates momentarily before grabbing his car keys again and heading out. He thinks of all the places they’ve gone. Of course Mike doesn’t have a favourite place, but Brad does, and so he heads straight for the beach.

It’s impossible to see through the rain and the fog. There are no other cars in the parking lot they usually park at and as he heads down to the sand he can’t see anybody else there. He pulls his hood up over his head for all the use it does and heads in one direction toward the cliffs at the other end of the beach.

There’s a shadow in the distance and Brad knows, immediately, that it’s Mike. He is standing staring out to sea, wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. He doesn’t turn his head when Brad gets closer, doesn’t say a word.

“You’ll malfunction if you stay out here much longer,” Brad shouts over the wind.

“I’m not broken,” Mike says.

“I know,” Brad says as he sidles closer. “I didn’t mean it.”

“When you got me you were happy.”

“And I’m happy now. I’m just worried one day I’m going to come home one day and you won’t be repairable. I know you can’t work, that’s why I fought to be promoted. But it was the wrong decision.”

“No.” Mike says. And that’s it. Nothing else. So maybe he means, no you won’t ever find me beyond repair. Or maybe, no you made the right decision.

Brad doesn’t push it, and eventually he plucks up the courage to speak. “Shall we go home?”

Mike nods silently and walks away, and Brad follows.


End file.
